Met my younger self for coffee (pt III).
Thursday, February 27, 2025.
We wander through the park to our early dinner destination.
I’ve messaged in advance. There is a space waiting for us at the bar of one of my favourite restaurants in the city.
We walk silently—at a fairly brisk pace, yet nothing feels rushed.
I love how much she’s taking in, still, has always had a pep in her step.
We arrive and she looks at me:
‘I feel a little underdressed for this place,’ she says when I notice she spots the Michelin sign.
’It’s perfect’, I say.
Let’s go inside, we have things to celebrate.
She looks slightly confused, slightly relieved, but follows my lead.
I joke (yet am totally serious) how much I love a good senior special, early dinner. I know this is subtly out of her comfort zone, but not entirely.
She prefers the buzz of the later evenings coming to life. Quietly observing from the sidelines, also ready to jump into a conversation with a complete stranger in any given moment. Open to where the night will take her.
These bar-top seats are perfect.
I know this is one of her favourite spots to sit—it’s still mine.
Generally quiet.
Great spot to people watch.
Not much needs to be said, whilst not staring at the person across from you.
Seated in a space that is epic for observing a team of artists at work, making beautiful things for their guests to sip and experience.
Settled into our seats, menu in-front.
She’s still swirling in slight discomfort. A thousand money stories going through her head right now. I can feel them.
Stories weighing her down as she quietly does a million micro-calculations; wondering how on earth she’s going to afford this experiential meal she deeply desires and also the return plane ticket, she’s yet to purchase.
‘It’s on me.’
Before I notice her soften, I see her squirm.
Okay, so the ease of receivership is still some time away. Noted.
’Really, really,’ I say.
I want you to fully feel what it’s like to receive, without there being any tricks.
There are no tricks here.
My heart beams to share this meal with you.
Before I witness her confidence shift, I see her eyes fill up once more.
She’s in one of her favourite environments.
A beautifully aesthetic restaurant, experience evidently on-point.
And she knows she’s worthy to receive, no strings attached. Even if that feels slightly unfamiliar to her.
She nods.
I feel the deepest appreciation.
It is the loudest, yet softest thank you she can muster without opening up a floodgate of tears.
She turns gently, looks at the bartender and asks what he recommends, with such a calm confidence.
She’s always had a taste for simple luxury, and an expansive palette.
I adore her.
‘What are we celebrating?’ She asks when I lift a glass to cheers her.
‘You.’
A warm smile appears on her face.
She knows exactly what I mean.
She knows I see—
The girl who left home at 17 to go to university far from everything she knew
The girl who by 21, adopted the entrepreneurial spirit that ran through her blood
The sister who forgot to mail a birthday card but wrote the most beautiful letter that will land in a mailbox with divine timing
The rebellious daughter who insisted on doing things differently and got on the plane anyway
The maiden in a heart-wrenching relationship whose heart yearns for more peace
The publicist who always knew there was a way others could not see, and was willing to push all of the edges
The yoga-teacher-in-training who was actually just desperately seeking to silence her mind
The young woman who has absolutely no idea how to be in relationship with money and unconsciously adopted the belief from her childhood that it doesn’t grow on trees
She knows that I see it all. And, that I also see—
The brave heart
The depth of service
The unapologetic true friend
The free-spirit, full of presence
The air of mystery, curiosity and wonder
The woman of integrity (even if she’s still practicing holding an integrous spine)
The desire to make art out of her life
The appreciation for the air we breathe
The choice to romanticize the entirety of her soul’s experience
The miracle that is her beating heart, without ever having to think about it
The taste for simple pleasures
The knowing how to make magic out of the mundane
The heartache, yet the willingness to choose to see the beauty
’Everything we need is here’, I tell her, placing my hand over my heart, as a take a big inhale and exhale.
I know she knows this. That is why we are celebrating. Gnosis.
’Now, let’s order.’
She may be on a dozen food elimination diets.
But she knows she is the operant power of her reality, and loves a beautiful meal so much, that she’s here for the utter delight of it all.
I’ve got some homeopathic activated charcoal that she can pop later, if need be.
She probably has them in her bag, anyway.
Bless her, for always being a secret walking medicine woman.
’Game for anything?’ I ask.
She smiles wide, ‘yesssss’.
That’s my girl.
I order a spread and we feast.
We feast on the most decadent and artistic dishes.
She’s in heaven.
I’m in heaven.
She’s dropped into complete receivership.
She’s telling me stories like the brilliant storyteller that she is.
She’s come alive, like fully alive.
She’s tapped into inspired action.
She’s willing to practice the art of prayer.
She’s pure love.
The pleasure I see on her face when she softly closes her eyes to savour each new dish, might be one of my greatest joys for me in this lifetime.
She knows what it is to be a living breathing paradox of both tender & spicy.
And more importantly, she knows peace.
Even if it comes in the deepest of waves right now.
She knows peace.
I love her so much.
I can’t wait to do this with her again soon.
